


The Lights Across the Waters

by Grovey



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Childhood Friends, Eye Trauma, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, story also features quite a bit of Jesse's mom, there is going to be a lot of pining I swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8940757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grovey/pseuds/Grovey
Summary: Hanzo is a prince who has everything, and Jesse is a person with very little to own save for his determination. As the two close friends go through childhood together and face the future, they figure out themselves as well, as well as realize the growing complexity of their lives and their feelings for each other.





	1. Lanterns in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> 10/17/2017: I'm no longer planning to continue this work due to a lack of direction and a changed perspective on the characters personalities. I'm also reluctant to work with this AU setting. Stay tuned for a different Mchanzo fic~
> 
>  
> 
> AU NOTES: Highly fictional, alternate history, with fictional places, but still making reference to real countries, just like in-game but only in the past. All you need to know is that there are steam ships, guns, and developments in technology roughly equivalent to the late 1800s.
> 
> Hanamura is a small kingdom (Japan’s split up, apparently) with trading power. It has only opened up its doors to the outside world recently. Things are mostly peaceful, there’s just a period of exchange and constant discussion.
> 
> Chapter one features a lot of a certain other character for Jesse's background. You'll see how their history plays into the rest of the story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo daydreams and recalls the day Jesse McCree left Hanamura, six months ago. He tries to put himself in Jesse’s shoes, searching even farther to the past, researching the one family that brought Jesse to their shores. Hanzo tries to find out why he traveled across the waters to begin with.

Whenever Hanzo looks out the window of his room, he can still see the dark ink still burnt into his vision. He squints out far, to the faintest docks and bays of Hanamura, slowly being eclipsed by the city growing around it. There's the misty form of the nearest mountain- the only thing that stands higher than the Royal Shimada Castle perched on top of the hill.

The prince blinks, rubs his eyes as the remnants of his schoolwork still come and go. A glance downwards to the cherry trees around the estate give him no break, with their bare branches just as complicated as the characters on his school work’s pages. Hanzo closes his eyes now, and sighs to himself, going over the text in his head.

Hell, seventeen years of his life and he thought science was easy. Local history, easy. Culture?  He was the symbol of it.

But ever since the trade was opened up to the outside, ever since new technology and foreigners started pouring in, he had found himself cooped up in in his room more often and satisfying the needs of his private tutors.

It left him with too much time on his own, time he spends  _ thinking _ . 

_ It was the best education in all of Hanamura _ , his parents insisted. Times were changing, and though they were immensely proud of their culture, they had a lot to gain from the others.  _ You are the heir to the throne, and this is a necessary part of your upbringing. You’ll have to keep up with the world. _ __  
_  
_ If Hanzo had his way, he would have gone off to see the docks, the grand steam ships, and  _ hell _ , he would have gladly set off on a trip to see the world for himself.  __ But---

_ You have to remain here, as the heir. Think of your family, think of your brother. Travelling far is dangerous, and by being tutored here, you stay close to your culture. _

Hanzo turns back to his book, flips the pages.

_ That decision was made long ago, you never would have been able to join him. _

\-------

It’s been six months since Jesse McCree left. He was encouraged to come along with one of the foreign consultants-  _ Mr. Reyes _ . Hanzo recalls the name, along with the small welcoming ceremony the young prince attended a few years back, when the man was first appointed to discuss relations and policies. He’s some American who was once part of military defense in an age now behind them.  Now, he helped lead a peacekeeping organization in Switzerland, and as such he regularly met up with political figures.  

He never really talked to Reyes much, and the man always comes and goes, but he knows Jesse looked up to him, even became sort of an apprentice to Reyes. It didn’t surprise him when he appealed for Jesse to join the trip.

They had plenty of things to get done- Reyes had far-reaching name, taking news of negotiation developments along with him. Jesse managed to convince the court that he’d learn from it, from Reyes, and perhaps put his charisma into practice for a future of making deals.  _ To be able to contribute as a member of the Hanamura court, _ he claimed, though Hanzo knows the truth: It’s mostly, if not entirely, a personal journey.

Hanzo glosses over the rest of the details in his head, and his face slumps into his palms when he remembers the wait ahead.  _ Two years, two years of not seeing him. _

At _ least _ a quarter of that was done… But he then rubs his temples when he thinks of the very real possibility of it being extended. Another few months looking at the ships making it to port.

Another spring blossoming without Jesse at his side.

 

Hanzo closes the book,  _ Global Economy, _ and then opens it to the back, showing a map of the world. His finger traces the outlined ship route, from their island by the Pacific ring and then past a couple continents to the Americas at the other end.

He’s  _ that _ far away, while here from his window, Hanzo can barely even see the bay.

He never saw Jesse hopping unto the ship with his own eyes, but he remembers the night before. The glowing forms of the trees and writings in his visual memory still blink over the map and the expanse of the ocean.

The courtyard, with its sakura-bordered pond. Hanzo himself joins the imagery- and then, more clearly- Jesse's calm smirking face from six months ago. 

Jesse was sitting down,  uncharacteristically well-dressed in a deep navy. He had taken off the belt of the uniform,  though,  and his slump into the stone bench had his belly bulging out- as if it wasn’t already obvious with the massive farewell dinner he just had. 

Hanzo was sat beside Jesse, and he looked up at the branches of the cherry tree above them, not even blooming yet. Then he scanned over the reflections of lanterns on the dark pond water. He looked anywhere, everywhere.

_ To remember the moment perfectly? To distract himself from his friend’s seemingly blissful reaction to a coming goodbye? _

Jesse had always made sure not to touch the prince, or even sit too close. He was respectful of his royalty, even if they had been friends all their life. 

But even now, sat in his room, reliving a mere memory months later, Hanzo’s nose wrinkles at the phantom scent of his hair. Like the dust kicked up by the horses in the stables, like the leather of his crumbling hat.

Like the mud and rain that often stained his old serape, a gift from his mother.

 

\----------------[6 months ago]----------------

 

“Did you visit her yet?” Hanzo asks him, after having stared at the lanterns in the water for too long.

“I did, earlier- ruh-” Jesse slurs towards the end and he scratches his head. “Didn’t feel like enough. Thought I’d go to the grave again before I leave tomorrow. It's on the way to the docks, anyway.” He then looks to Hanzo for his reply.

He smiles back, “Well, make sure you wake up early. Wouldn’t want to miss the ship.”

“Knowing Reyes, that’ll be no problem- I’ll be awake whether I like it or not.” Jesse laughs, his voice cutting through the night’s calm. Hanzo’s chest flutters and though he resists at first, a chuckle gets past him anyway, his eyes pinched shut.

Jesse was staring at him oddly when his gaze met Hanzo’s again- “Why did you laugh?”

“N-nothing.” Hanzo’s quick to revert to a more neutral expression, though there remains the curl at the corner of his lips. “It’s just you.”

_ Always had the best damn laugh _ , Hanzo thinks as Jesse’s voice echoes in his mind. 

He then raises a hand before Jesse can speak again, “You should probably get some rest for tomorrow.”

He lowers his palm.  Jesse flattens his lips and doesn't protest initially.  “Right… ” He then gnaws on his lower lip, and takes a breath, “Well- I’ve got one last thing, before I leave tomorrow.”

Jesse rises from the bench, and nods at the other to follow along. Hanzo’s halfway to standing from his seat, jaw dropped open in silent question, when Jesse answers him ahead, “I got a gift for you.”   
  
“Oh... What is it?” Hanzo walks to his side, and as the prince approaches, Jesse can’t help but look back and watch the way his dark robes and hair sway. 

“Well uhh, not really a gift, more of a favor for ya. Or m-maybe both?”

“Just hurry up, Jesse.” Hanzo says with a smirk.

“Hey, is that how a prince is supposed to say farewell?” Jesse stuck a tongue out at him.

Hanzo sighs, overdramatic. “I’m  _ curious _ , just show me, and then... I’ll give you something. I have a gift for you, too.”

\-------

Jesse was gone by the time Hanzo awakened, off to sea with Reyes. The servants informed Hanzo as such, (exchanged knowing glances when the heir’s shoulders fell and they had gone on their way, ) and a little after Genji confirmed seeing him set off, alongside Reyes’s troupe of guards and a few people from the Hanamura court.

Hanzo would have pried his brother for more- ask what supplies they were bringing, how Jesse looked- but Genji had already made the bad decision of staying up. He was half-asleep when Hanzo passed by him, and no doubt was fast in slumber now. 

Hanzo on the other hand rubs the circles under his eyes and wills himself to ready for the day, getting properly dressed and preparing his things. As he’s checking himself in the mirror, he runs his fingers over the simple box Jesse had left him the night before, left there where he can’t miss it.

He wonders how far away Jesse is now. There’s the flash of his grinning face in his mind, and his fingertips press down harder on the box’s edge for a moment.

Hanzo breathes, heads for the door, and soon heads out of the estate with the guards.

\-------

He isn’t surprised to come to the grave site and find a large candle still flickering in a bowl-like container. Flowers- mostly yellow- adorn the top of the marker, some dewy and a little droopy after a night but still radiant. 

Hanzo’s heard the customs from Jesse, but as he approaches his chest bubbles up with uncertainty. He doesn’t know all the details on how he’d honor her; Jesse’s mother carried her homeland along but took a liking to some of the local traditions in her short time in Hanamura, even had some strange interpretations to them. He hopes his respects would be to her liking, incense sticks and some prayer.

Mrs. McCree died well over a decade ago. She went by her maiden name- Ms. García- more often than not, and knew that she wouldn’t look back to the world of the living if she was buried and called by that other name. Her request was honored, as was right for a honored royal guard.

García came to Hanamura with little, her most precious material possession being a shining gun. More precious still were things no amount of money could match, like her own zealous personality and, most of all, her young son. Jesse was about three.

Originally, the court took interest in her on account of her having such a smart grasp of Spanish, a whole arsenal of expressions and metaphors and idioms and know-how, but   _ then _ she showed her skill with a gun.

Hanzo would have been dead if it weren’t for her feat, him and the other court officials, possibly even the King. He was pushed out of sight as soon as the alarm was sounded though, the assailants spotted, gunfire ringing fresh in his ears after leaving a hole in the screen behind them- a single missed shot. But before Hanzo was brought to the blind spot, before the other guards hurried him away to safety, he happened to look outside and caught that split second of her. Standing proud, the sparse fringe over her eyes flapping in the breeze, her right eye seeming to flash and focus at attackers moving like blurs.

He jolted when three shots rang in quick succession, thought for a moment that his very soul was leaving him, but then young Hanzo found his body completely unharmed. He heard a muffled sound, like something tumbling down from a rooftop, and that was that.

Over the years, Hanzo gleamed other details from those who did see it, who took care of the bodies afterward. The strange daze Ms. García was in afterwards, and not to mention, the perfect aim she had on all three.

All headshots. One in the forehead, one to the temple, one to the bridge of the nose. Death quick and painless with no dying scream, the life of the royal family spared with seemingly no one to report back to the enemy. Little damage to the buildings.

García took up the mantle of a sharpshooter rather than a teacher, “Never liked sitting around, anyway.” The graciousness from the royal family and the payment offer that followed was astronomical, and they were willing to discuss the risks, the trade-offs for it.

She took the job with two deathly stipulations. “If I die, I want to be buried and honored in a certain way different from your own.”

Done and done.

Number two, “If I die, take the best damn care of my son for me, will you?”

And they did. Jesse lived a rather lovely life for a commoner, with the potential to get positions in the court later on. García often said she did it for him.

So whenever Hanzo visits the grave now, he can’t help but wonder if she was  _ prepared _ , like death constantly chased her.

Ms. García retired unexpectedly early though, less than two years after her arrival, when she was injured following another otherwise successful defense. The doctors said her sniping eye swelled red, and from then on she was half-blind.

The Shimada court found new bodyguards and snipers- it took more than a couple to  match her in her power- but García remained safe, living close by, right outside the walls of the royal estate. The dangerous political climate settled down as well.

Sickness beat her where assassins couldn’t.

The air was simply too different this far from home. She had a good eye, good instincts, but her health must have taken a hit when they first fled America, and she had lost too much when she finally had the Shimada providing for her.

Hanzo had trouble processing it too, the way she just seemed to disappear from everyone’s lives. The overly lanky woman with the strange Japanese and even stranger sense of fashion. She who walked with beat to her step and strange sway, since she always had her gun holstered at the hip even far past her injury and retirement. Now many of his memories of her are supplemented by Jesse talking about missing her smile.

When Hanzo attended the funeral, he didn’t even realize it was one first, with it having been so different from local ones. It would almost have been joyous like the person it was for- with the bright flowers and the upbeat music- if not for five-year-old Jesse at the center, face red, crying hard and wiping snot under his nose.

It was definitely not something Ms. García would have wanted. Jesse, with his face streaked from tears, led along by other people from the court. He didn’t even know them. He had no father beside him, he’d left before Jesse could even remember his face.

\-----

[Hanzo once asked him why he chose that name, why he didn’t take his mother’s, and Jesse told him that the others in court discouraged it at first. She went by García more than anything else, and calling her name would have been like intruding on her spirit’s journey to a better place. She didn’t want to be called back. Hanzo would ask again and get a different answer. Later on when he was older, Jesse debated on changing it, but he found one last reason, one that he never could say. ]

\-----

The many visions of Jesse, the smile, the yellow flowers, the candlelights, the white grave.

They jumble in his mind and play out as Hanzo blankly stares outside, to the faint bay and mountains afar. It’s a while before he realizes he’s forgotten about his schoolwork.

Hanzo stands up, shuts the screen to the window. He glances to the clock, and decides a training session with Genji would help his mind settle down.

 

\--------------- [Many, many miles away]-----------------

 

Jesse McCree watches his feet and Reyes more than anything else as they step up the hill, marigolds and candlelights swimming past his sight. Tall grave markers cast shivering shadows across the breeze-swept grass, and Jesse finds his body twisting and turning to make sense of it, careful not to step even on the very borders of the mounds and  _ especially _ not on the headstones. Whenever the candlelight permits it, he glances at the names and reaches into his far past to see if any of them ring familiar.

He stops in his tracks when he sees a  _ Reyes _ engraved in stone, and he glances up to see Gabriel has halted as well. Reyes is wordless as he swings his pouch over, finds a tiny booklet, and steps closer to a much larger headstone than the one Jesse had been eyeing.   
  
He squints past Gabe’s figure to see the names on the off-white rock, and epithets beneath in languages he can’t understand. Obviously, this is the family plot.

Gabriel looks up from the booklet, and sees McCree watching. Jesse jolts and straightens his body at first, but then softens the moment he sees a smile behind that bushy mustache.

“Sorry, sir, uh, I’m not being disrespectful, am I-”

“Relax, kid.” Reyes takes him by the shoulder and leads him to his side, patting his back once they stand together. They’re at the foot of the main grave now, and Jesse can read all the engraved letters much more easily. Another Reyes, there’s even a faded painting of them done on a separate slab of rock.

After a while, Gabriel takes a deep breath, “My grandfather. Fought for independence, wrapped himself in politics to his last breath- Great man, great legacy.”

Jesse blinks, and then turns to him, “Did you know him well?”   
  
There’s a shrug, and then a sigh, “When I was a kid, yes, but for the rest of my life my parents and me lived north of the border.”

“Might explain why you’re a political man now, though.”

Gabe ends up raspberrying- a badly-contained laugh- and cups his hand over his mouth. “No, no. That was all me. Besides, my job’s very different from what it must have been like back then-”

“-And when I was a kid, I just wanted to be some artist, a musician maybe. I’m good with a guitar...”

McCree goes wide-eyed, making a wild gasp before Reyes can ramble more, “ _ You? _ An artistic type?”

_ “I made the clothes off your back by myself. _ ” Gabe rolls his eyes. Jesse pouts in reply... and then looks down at the patterned clothes, giving it a pat. “W-wait, you did?”

“Did you think I was joking?” Gabe raises his brow, “It’s a little hobby. You know, sitting down and talking strategy with people who barely understand you can get stressful, they’ve got high expectations, sometimes you’re helping recreate a whole system and-” He pauses when he notices Jesse’s face go blank again, “- err, s-sometimes I just need to sit down and make something else. McCree?”

No answer.

“ _ McCree- _ “

Jesse yelps and his eyes widen, realizing he had not absorbed any of that. Instead, he had recalled calling his shirt dumb in front of Genji, when he first got it.

“What’s gotten into you-“

“P-Prince Genji called this shirt dumb-“ Jesse blurts out.

“-What?!?” Gabe leans back and inhales sharply at first, rising on his toes along with the breath, but he then slumps back onto his heels, sighs out before speaking again, calm and matter-of-fact. “Well, the Prince doesn’t know better and I don’t care what he has to say.”

“I’m going to tell him that.” Jesse smirks.

“Pssh, go ahead. Now-“ He thumps Jesse’s back, making him stand at attention once more. “We should stop embarrassing ourselves in front of my family. I was so close to swearing.”

Gabriel brings his hands together, and starts fiddling with something- the booklet, pages warped from being clutched in one hand for so long. Jesse flattens his lips when he spots something else- beads.

“Didn’t think you were religious, sir.”

“I’m not very, but my family would have wanted me to do this for them.” With that, Reyes’ voice trails off, and he starts reciting from the pages.

Usually Jesse lingers and observes the other, picking up on phrases, but the words are too quiet, too sacred. He looks on, solemn, the chirps of nighttime now filling his ears where their voices have faded.

He turns around after a while, a practiced swivel of his boot, and leaves Gabriel be. Jesse instead looks out to the rest of the cemetery. The Reyes family plot is more luminous than the others nearby, which fade to black a few meters down the line, save for the dancing golden candlelights that have stood against the wind.

There’s a pang in his belly, and he doesn’t know why.

\-----

Jesse thinks of his mother again, her and other hazy things warped by time. He wonders if he can even remember her face correctly-  _ Did she have freckles? I don’t even have them, myself. _

Would he have other family here, in this graveyard? Or would they all be past the border? He knows it’s foolish to scour through the place for other Garcías, not in this darkness. And even if he did find some, they might not even be closely related.

She fled across the world for a reason, carried him along and risked life and limb. She didn’t leave any names for him to pursue, only the ache of having no history. 

_ Maybe that’s what she wanted. Sorry if you didn’t want me back here, ma. _

All he had was her spirit in him, at least he hoped he did. There was her gun, too, and he entrusted  _ that  _ to Gabriel in the meantime, at least until he could learn how to shoot.

Just those two things, and the memory of warmth.

He left  _ that _ back in Hanamura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go! I've got this fic all planned out kinda, but this is my first time tackling a project of this scale.
> 
> I appreciate every comment, let me know if you have concerns! I research a lot, and share some common experiences within my own life, but it's daunting (and confusing) writing about a different culture when the context you put it in is alternate history, and through the eyes of characters who also have different views on said things.
> 
> This fic is going to hopefully have a lot of pining, and a lot on themes of legacy. A lot of fluff. I'm excited. Here's to more!


	2. A Pond in Noontime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Many, many years ago]  
> Jesse slowly adjusts to a not-so-lonely life in the Hanamura royal estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to finally update this thing, I've been juggling school but I still wanna keep at this even if it takes a while~! I've actually been sitting on this mostly-done chapter for a while, just didn't edit it up until now.
> 
> A lot shorter this time around than the first. As usual, I appreciate any kudos and comments, it keeps me goin~

Jesse found little rest the night after his mother’s funeral, curled up in an unfamiliar bed. Slumbering on a mattress across him was one of the castle’s maids, a face he recognized but a name he couldn’t place. She was just someone who volunteered to keep the orphan company for the night, and scarcely came close to being a substitute for mama.

The sheets he was on were still too cold, regardless. 

The court’s search for any relatives brought no results. It wasn’t a surprise as little Jesse and Ms. García came to the country on their own.

And so after her first wish was honored, there was the matter of taking care of her son. The outer edges of the royal estate housed plenty of workers in decent shelter, and the five-year-old was given a small room beside some servants his mother was familiar with. Smaller than the house that they once had outside the castle, which had been just one partitioned room.

She had said she could never be assed to move in the main Shimada estate, that she liked the peace.

[ Out of Jesse’s earshot, she also wanted a place where she didn’t have to worry about bullets spraying from behind the thin screens. A place with less people to keep track of. Whether it was going to hit her, or someone else... ]

The kind servants were the one who carried Jesse to the estate when the boy didn’t (or couldn’t) get up from the sheets on the floor. His mother’s doctor worked at the palace too, so word didn’t take long to reach them. He had seen many faces that day, and the words spoken to him were a blend of simplified Japanese and Spanish. He was smarter than that, but it was the bare amount that he could process at the time. Her spirit still feels so near, the spectre of her from the night before.

_ I’ll be okay, Jesse. _

Even now there’s  _ too much _ that reminds him of her. Sitting up in his new room, he could see all their old belongings, but crammed closer if not filed away in a corner. There’s her serape, like a curtain over the window after being pinched into the window frame above to hang it dry.

A glint of gold has Jesse focusing on the high shelf, and his breath hitches. The box for her gun, locked, and beside it the crumbling leather of the holster. He’d seen her maintain its sheen, all the while warning Jesse to “keep yer hands off it till you’re older.”

He’ll be sure to honor that, won’t ever touch the damn thing till he’s all grown up. Her warning replays itself in his mind, and her face  shimmers as she gets clearer, from her faded eye, to the freckles on her cheeks-

Jesse snaps back to reality when his line of sight falls upon the sleeping attendant, sleeping and turned away instead of overlaying with the visions. She doesn’t look anything like Mama, either. Jesse observes her for a few moments, confirming her to be (one) fast asleep and (two) definitely not his mother.

He then slides out of his bed.

Approaching the doorway brings him closer to the chatter of the workers of the court. He turns towards the window on the opposite end, slivers of light peeking through gaps in the old fabric’s threading and whenever a light breeze whips it up.

He wraps his arms around it and bundles up the fabric for a squeeze, staring at the golden diamonds near the edge. Curling his fingertips into a seam has him fishing out a few grains of sand, and they quickly tumble from under his nails. He then presses his nose to the red cloth.

No more of the scent of iron- just soap and moss from the river.

He looks back at the unknown maid, one more time, before brushing the serape aside and stepping out the window.

\-------

Jesse is utterly clueless to the workers scouring the halls for him, three hours into wandering around the Shimada estate. He’d walked down the halls hundreds of times before, but never with the free reign to speed down the walkways and dart into mysterious passages... When he stumbles into the walkway to the gardens- the paper screens tinted a deep green- he bolts out into the grass and looks up. Only to be blinded by the sun, only to see that the cherry blossom trees are bare.

There are quite a couple of them, overlooking the still and roughly crescent-shaped pond at the center. There’s a stone bench under one of the trees, overlooking a similarly stone path through the pond. Slender lanterns  are spaced out evenly near the palace walkways surrounding the area, stoic sentinels in the daytime.

Last time Jesse had been here, the pond was completely covered in pastel-pink blossoms and he had almost walked right in and fell. Now they had clusters of floating lotus leaves on each end of the pond, though the flowers themselves are but pale buds.

They’re still pretty, Jesse smiles. He’ll have to wait for the sakura to bloom again, whenever that may be.

The air is humid around the pond, and the glare of the sun too much for him to keep looking at the water. The sun’s high, and he retreats to the pondside bench. The bare branches of the trees above are wisp-like and only lessen the shade a hint, but when Jesse hugs his knees close the shade of the trunk catches him completely.

His stomach rumbles, though the pain is dulled after a day of barely eating. 

His eyes squint at the noontime light across the waters, lotus buds fading intro vague pink blobs, like sweet peaches.

Little Jesse then closes his eyelids and rubs them over the arms folded over his knees.

\-------

He wakes up with a jolt, hungrier than ever, when he hears the  _ pat pat pat  _ from nearby. Jesse’s eyes are dry and it takes a while for him to focus on the black-and-white blur zooming from one side of the pond to another, its reflection in the water mirroring even more vaguely.

His eyes widen further and he sees another dark form, quite close to him in fact, and spots spiky dark hair. When it all comes into focus, he sees a tiny kid digging into the mud at the banks of the pond and watching in awe as the channels scratched into the dirt fill with water.

He bolts up again though when he hears an exasperated noise, and spots a ruffled up person at the garden entrance. A servant, judging by their plain clothes. They scramble to chase the child skipping over the pond’s stones- one with hair up in a poofy ponytail and embroidered robes shaken loose over his thin frame. The unfortunate babysitter rushes to one end of the pond only for the child to quickly skip right back to the other edge.    
  
That’s then when their eyes lock. The servant seems to notice Jesse as well, and rasps out his name, all the while stepping back to their charge’s side of the yard, arms and legs splayed out and still ready to catch him.    
  
The kid smirks at Jesse, brown eyes gazing intently. Jesse rises from the stone bench without even realizing it. He watches the other switch directions on the pond again, robes flapping as he runs to the other end and back unto the grass, away from the entrance. Jesse runs off in the opposite direction and right at the befuddled servant, having them spinning enough for the kid to return from the other end of the yard and zoom back into the hallways of the castle. Jesse does the same.

He doesn't question himself when he follows the other, he just  _ runs,  _ forgetting his drowsiness and hunger. Jesse doesn't even quite realize just  _ who  _ he's following until he's out of breath and slows to a stop next to the young prince. 

Hanzo looks contemplative, pouting cutely and knitting his brow. They found themselves in one of the quieter side passages of the palace, Jesse confirms this when he looks around to avert the gaze of the other. 

_ Why are we here? Why did we run together? Wait. I've seen this other kid before.  _

Hanzo clears his throat, straightens his back when he meets Jesse's gaze. “I left my brother there,“ he says matter-of-factly,  “I need to go back to get him. “

Hanzo’s polite visage is broken when he grins wide, a smile and sheepish eyes. Jesse simply nods,  and follows the swing of Hanzo's white, if mud and grass-stained robes. 

When they return to the yard, the babysitter is waiting for them, already having gathered other servants for a search party.

Genji’s already being wiped down for mud and dirt, and Hanzo flashes him that smile before inevitably being chastised by the servant, in formal and stern words no doubt a direct copy of the king’s and queen’s. 

 

Jesse watches blankly, words growing muddled with their more complex use of Japanese. He's shaken out of it by a firm squeeze on his shoulder- He looks up to see a rather frazzled woman. 

_ Oh. The maid who volunteered to look after him.  _ He looks down in shame for running away, but the maid takes him into her arms and leads him away, cooing. “Have you eaten yet, Jesse? The kitchen hasn't seen you all day- you must be starved-”

Jesse is reminded of the twisting in his stomach, and lets himself be carried away. Before he's taken back into the halls, though, he looks over his shoulder and back at Hanzo. 

He remembers now, in the haze of memories that was the funeral night. Prince Hanzo was there, lost and confused. 

Now he was cracking a smile, one Jesse mirrored before Hanzo turned back to listen to his lecture. 

His white robe, his shiny golden hair ribbon. They flash for a moment, along with the sunshine on the pond, before Jesse walks past the door and he's gone. 

\-------

Jesse learns soon enough what his caretaker’s name is, Momoka. It's vaguely familiar, perhaps she was one of his mother's closer friends. He devoured his noodles, a hearty brunch, tried to avoid her fond but sad looks at him. 

He soon learns the names of every one of Hanzo and Genji’s sitters, too, when they start having to tell Jesse off too for distracting the heir from his studies, or pushing him into the pond, or encouraging little Genji to grab fistfuls of grass and grime to throw at the adults. 

Today, they'll probably tell them off for stealing from the kitchens. 

“Hanzo!“ Jesse pants as he runs across the courtyard. Hanzo's already sat at the stone bench, looking at the lotus flowers in bloom. He brightens when he sees Jesse’s prize- rice cakes, stacks of them. 

The prince scoots himself to give Jesse some space and pats beside him. Jesse slumps right in, offering the desserts to the other.

And so they eat together, admiring the sunbeams and the shadows of the trees. Jesse wonders how long it will take for the people to check the pond again- 

Hopefully it’ll be a while. They always check the courtyard first, but Hanzo and Jesse know how to trick them into looking elsewhere before doubling back.

Momoka-san did pass by and notice, but she never interrupts the two, pretends she never saw. 

Sparrow songs, the water, and Hanzo’s quiet chewing beside him. It’s calm, it’s bliss. It’s home for Jesse, and he smiles.


	3. Dewdrops and Fresh Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ When they were young and didn't know better ]  
> Jesse wishes the world would treat him one way, but Hanzo wants it the other. Two young boys spend time being both fools and philosophers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fancy summary. I really hope I get faster at updating this than once a month, but as it stands I am quite busy. As they get older the story gets easier for me to write, though!
> 
> I ultimately got my footing on this chapter and hope ya'll enjoy~ As usual, I appreciate feedback and any kind of concerns you have for this wild mixed up history dealie!
> 
> [It's tricky figuring out writing for their age, so if there seem to be edits on those then it's because I'm indeed indecisive on what their ages are exactly, hehe]

When Hanzo looks up from his poetry readings, he jolts from his seat to see that Jesse has replaced the view in the window.

 

Not that Jesse is any worse than the view of Hanamura and the foggy mountains- The nine year old's wild hair and wide grin are a welcome sight for Hanzo. Jesse’s panting slightly, making a light whistle through a toothless gap in his smile. He’s ridiculous.

 

The first thing Hanzo does is smile back.

The next thing he does is scramble to pull Jesse into the room, because the window is a couple floors off the ground. “What are you doing here!” Hanzo says, as Jesse lands unto the smooth wood of the room with a fiendish little chuckle in reply.

 

Jesse expects to look back at Hanzo’s face and find him mildly amused, but instead the prince is looking towards the walls, the door, cautious.

 

He looks back at Jesse, frowning, “You should be more careful…”

 

Jesse stares. Then his face scrunches into a frown and he pushes himself up to sit, “Because we might get in trouble?”

 

“Yes-No--- That, and you could have fallen!!!” the prince huffs, even more so when the other simply laughs. Hanzo rushes to the window to look down, seeing the slender ledge Jesse could have used, or the bare sakura tree over a low wall. Whatever the method, he’s got no idea how Jesse does it, and so quietly too.

 

Jesse watches him, and then rolls his eyes, “The guards _should_ have noticed. I was sloppy this time. Maybe they’re busy with Genji.”

 

Hanzo grips the windowsill and ponders. True, for a seven-year-old, Genji’s already been causing the castle so much stress with his knack for vanishing and breaking things. On the other hand… “If they find out I’m letting you sneak around, letting you into my room, the elders would be angry with me. Now that I’m older.”  
  
_Now that you’re older_ , it’s a phrase he’s heard a lot more, often to compare the growing heir to the disaster that is spoiled child prince Genji.

 

“Maybe they won't mind if I'm helping your brother get into trouble.” Jesse smirks at the thought of getting an accomplice to his antics.

 

He expects Hanzo to go on his brotherly spiel on how Genji’s too young- either out of genuine concern, or just to keep him out of their two-person older-kids club. Instead Hanzo just agrees, “Father lets him get away with anything. “

 

“Pssh. And your mother always makes the tutors go easy on you. “ Jesse rolls his eyes as he pulls some food out from his pockets.

 

“I have more tutors than you do---  Where did you get those?!”

 

“Kitchen, obviously. “ Jesse offers the stuffed mochi to the prince. Hanzo shakes his head,  “We should be thankful to those who have made these and not steal. “

 

He sounds like the babysitter. Jesse puffs his cheeks out indignantly “I left a thank you note. “

 

Hanzo pauses, looks at Jesse perplexed. He then takes the mochi.

 

\-------

 

The Shimada family owns the vast fields beyond the castle, from the fence of the back courtyard and stables to the surrounding woodland, and the wide clearing through it that makes a path all the wood to a small temple, that of the Dragons of the Winds, where they stand watch over the Shimada.

 

The sight of them would be a good place to stop, Jesse thinks, as he looks out from the stables. There is a slight chill about, which means he's gotten his serape from where he hung it up by the tool room earlier.

 

Hanzo half-hides behind a spotted mare, watching her tail flick. He pats the horse, and then steps back as Jesse saddles her.

 

Hanzo blinks up, “Hmm, we’re right not to take my brother along. There’s no way his feet would even reach the stirrups even if we adjusted them”

 

“Heh, I think this stuff would be too dangerous for him.” Jesse steps up to get on top of the saddle. He then gestures at the one other horse in the enclosure, “Go lead her out.”

 

Hanzo does as asked, whilst Jesse leads his mare out of the gates ahead of him. Hanzo then closes the gate before stepping up his own mare, “You’re the one climbing walls.”

 

“I’m already _nine_! There’s a difference.” As Hanzo gets settled on the horse and takes the reins, he stretches out his feet and presses only on air. He frowns, kicking legs, only making the stirrups jangle faintly against the rest of the saddle.

 

Jesse laughs, slides off his horse and makes the few-inch fix, all the while the prince is puffing his cheeks down at him until his tiny feet could settle on the pad comfortably. It isn’t fair that Jesse’s already taller and lankier than him, though it’s perhaps an effect of all the food he takes.

 

“Are we good?” Jesse grins up at Hanzo, pats at his ankle.

 

“Let’s just go before anyone notices.” Hanzo smirks and moves his horse beside Jesse’s. The boy scrambles back up on his, and in unison they look about the courtyard grounds, before heading out the next gate.

 

\-------

 

It isn’t the first time that they have snuck out for a ride like this. Hanzo enjoys it more without an instructor keeping the horse slow, when they aren’t just running loops around the courtyard , sun bearing down, Hanzo feeling it steam inside his dark robes.

 

The late afternoon breeze is there to greet him instead, and the smell of the grass as their horses trot out into the field. Jesse’s pace is faster than he’s used to, but as he spends more time at the stables, Hanzo doesn’t mind at all. He trusts his friend’s pace. He lags back to a speed more his tempo, and gets to see that red and billowing serape ahead.

 

Hano banishes the thought of responsibilities and repercussions, he hangs tighter to the mare and smirks as he then rushes ahead of Jesse, his long hair flapping in his face, and the prince laughs as they get farther and farther from the main estate.

 

“You’re not getting away that easily!” Jesse yells, quoting the storybooks he’s read, mind filled with the images of adventurers on the pages. He digs his heels and the horse goes faster, going far past Hanzo’s, and he cheers for himself as he’s won what was barely a game.

 

Hanzo smiles at him and slows down after that, seeing the path ahead of them narrow. Jesse grabs his reins and then stops, notices Hanzo looking up the slope of the hill. The temple cuts through the skyline, and though it is foggy, they’re close enough to be able to make out the details of the dragon’s maw. Jesse glances at the prince, who’s biting his lip and uncertain, gripping his reins hard. Then he turns the horse around, “I think that’s as far as we should go.”

 

Jesse’s never been to the temple himself, and he knows people never come there unless they’re from the royal family. He does know that the dragon statue shines in gorgeous colors in the sunlight, and he’s quite certain there are more treasures within. “It’s not too dark yet. Can we check it out? I’m curious what’s in there…” Jesse leans closer.

Hanzo grumbles at that and shakes his head to further make his point. “They might be looking for us now.”

 

“You’ve always been curious about the temple-” Jesse’s horse trots to walk right alongside Hanzo’s, and he tries goading him with a cute pout. “What happens in there, anyway?”

 

“I don’t know! Father says I’ll go there when I’m older.” He shrugs, “It’s just… I hear someone might live near there, so we can’t just enter without anyone noticing.”

 

“What kind of person?”

 

“An artisan… someone secret- hmm-” Hanzo grips the saddle tighter with one hand, then turns to Jesse, flexing his free arm, “You know that Mother has a red dragon on her arm, right?”

 

It’s usually covered up by her kimono, Jesse recalls, but sure enough the queen has one. Jesse nods.

 

“Father has tattoos on his chest. The elders all have them, as do most of my uncles and aunts… and because I’m the heir, I’ll definitely have one someday.” Hanzo looks forward to the palace as they start to make their way back. “It’s the mark of our family, and they say it’s… magical, blessed, and only the artist at the temple can do it, and that they have to keep themselves secret.”

 

Hanzo smiles at Jesse’s wide eyes and keen interest. Jesse stammers back, “W-what’s... magical about the tattoos?”

 

And with that, Hanzo makes another shrug. “It just, I don’t know, gives you their protection. It puts their spirit in your blood, and also their strength. That’s why I’ll need one, because a king has to be strong…?” Hanzo cups his hand over his arm. He’s already wondered about where he wants it, even of the color it should be. Perhaps red like his mother’s, or gold if it were at all possible, that and those are colors he loves.

 

He jolts when he hears Jesse clap, and he instinctively grabs unto the saddle as his horse also seems a bit startled. Hanzo furrows his brow at the other, who only keeps talking with excitement- “You should get it! So you’ll get powers-”

 

“I’m not old enough.”

 

“For what? I know tattoos hurt, but you can handle that-” Jesse makes movements with his arms, mimicking the ones Hanzo makes sometimes in martial arts practice. Hanzo laughs, and then reaches over to calm Jesse’s hands, “We’re still kids to them.”

 

“They’re missing out. You’re going to do so much, they just have to let you.” Jesse leans and pats Hanzo on the back, until their horses move apart of their own accord and they continue riding it out. Ultimately, sunset comes faster than they expect, and they’re thankful to have sight of the palace just as the lanterns start to light up all over it. The moisture on the grass catches some of the lights, like faint stars. If they look beyond the palace starting to shine in the dark, there was the sea.

 

Hanzo sighs, “Actually, I don’t mind being a kid a little longer.”

 

Jesse turns to him, mouth agape, “But all the adults treat us like we’re dumber than we are!” He lightly whips with the reins, and his horse trots faster for a moment. “I can ride out on my own, I can understand things, you could be king-” He’s expecting a big reply from the prince, but he only sees Hanzo looking far off. There’s that tiredness he really only notices when the shadows on his face are long, in light like there was at this time of dusk.

 

And Jesse closes his mouth, and remembers the many books and stacks and rolls of paper in Hanzo’s room, of his ink-stained hands as he took those hands on the way down to the stables, rushing past all the patrols.

 

“Hanzo?”

 

“Hmm?” Hanzo blinks back at Jesse. “S-sorry.” He was trying to process, still, where Jesse was coming from.

“Maybe it’s easier for you. Sorry, I was trying to think of another verse.”

 

Of poetry, yes. Like he had been working on earlier… for Jesse there was the feeling of not having done enough, that Hanzo was back to work the moment they were done with messing around.

 

He hears Hanzo’s tutors go easy on him, but whenever the prince recounts his studies they’re in subjects that Jesse’s never even heard of, topics as broad as the kingdom and the world. And Jesse looks at his own training given to him by the palace, and he knows the cooks never chide him too hard because they pity him and his mother. Jesse thought himself smart, and that the people underestimated him, but Hanzo is the smartest kid Jesse knows. Did he _want_ people to underestimate him?

 

He sees Hanzo, and remembers him pouting over a piece of paper, and his hair kept out of his face by a silk as he pores over books, and Jesse sees a king-to-be indeed. Someone who knows a lot of things and sat in boring discussions but then got whatever they wanted. They just have to be smart, and Hanzo actually understands math and knows all sorts of facts about the kingdom. Hanzo sits through lectures from his professors and from his caretakers. Probably already filling those requirements of being a ruler.

 

He has the nicest bed and the best food and a little sibling to mess with and two parents, everything one could ever want. Born a prince and already a little king in some way.

 

Jesse sees his future and only feels curious about that box with the gun, only dreams of the days when the servants stop enshrouding his mother in mystery. When they stop treating him like a kid, no more rules, more answers. Answers are all he needs, because Momoka-san brings him food from the kitchen anyway if he didn’t steal them, and his bed is soft and cozy when he curls up under his serape.

 

He knows he’ll never tick the rest off his list, but that’s what the answers are for, to tell him why he couldn’t have it all.

 

\-------

 

When the two of them manage to sneak back up into Hanzo’s room, Jesse looks over the complicated titles on the shelves of books and only finds more questions. More of them, over the time the collection has grown. They weren’t big and pressing like his own, Jesse felt, but there were so many of them, even for a prince who already had everything.

 

“You should go back before they find you here…” Hanzo’s already setting himself up at his desk again, figuring out which aspect of his studies to pursue.

  


He seems a hint peeved when Jesse pulls up a chair next to him. The desk was wide, but with all of Hanzo’s books in close proximity, it was cramped to have Jesse nearby.

 

“The bell will ring soon. Then you’ll have to go.”

 

“I know, I’ll help you a lil.” _What the heck could Hanzo be so stressed about_ , Jesse ponders, as he picks up a history book. Hanzo glances at the title he’s taken, fishes through his notes, and finds a scrap relevant to the book. “My tutor wants me to read on our neighbors in the south.”

 

“Oh… like, in Saikaido?”

 

Hanzo shakes his head. “I mean… Siam, Manila, Malaya…” Jesse’s reply of a slack jaw tells him all he needs, and Hanzo sighs, “Places you’ve never heard of before.”  
  
“I think I remember their names... but I don’t know much about them. I read about the Americas but-” Jesse watches as Hanzo takes that book from him and replaces it with another, and his papers with another set.

 

“I don’t understand America at all.” Hanzo rolls his eyes, “They’re so different. I used to have a tutor, and I can understand English, but he spoke so fast-” He pinches his hands close to his nose and smirks, “And his nose was thiiiis big.”

 

Jesse snickers at that while Hanzo continues, “The elders say it’s important I learn about them, and Europe, they have so much say in the world.”

 

“Well-” Jesse relaxes into his seat and starts looking through the book, “Ma was from America… so I thought reading these would help me understand her. Instead I just know a lot, but nothing that helps me.”

 

“Maybe it’ll help me-” Hanzo shows his notes to Jesse. Jesse wordlessly looks it over, rifles through the pages, and quickly finds one that’d help the other. Hanzo reads it, nods and scrawls some info, before dog-earing the page and setting it aside. Jesse grins.

 

“Help me understand _my_ studies next.”

 

“Then bring your things next time. Or I’ll sneak into your room.” Hanzo smiles back, looking more relaxed now. Maybe will be good to let Jesse stick around.

 

Jesse lets him finish some more verses, jump between a few topics. Jesse explains at least one topic he barely knows about in as deep of a guess as he could muster, because Hanzo telling him that he was smart was one of the highest forms of praise. They continue, more idle chatter slipping in alongside the already distracted study session.

 

“I want to go to America someday…”

“But you’ll have to get on one of those huge ships!”

 

“Well, I already have a plan-” Jesse steals his pen and some of the sheets, doodling something down. Whatever the long-winded explanation, it’s _tactical genius_ , and Hanzo is impressed once more. But when Jesse teleports between floors of the castle and knows the fastest route to a hiding place when running from the lead servant, Hanzo assumes it doesn’t take much of a stretch for him to figure these things out.

 

Jesse fixed the unhinged gates on one of their forbidden horse runs, he’s learned how to clean and dry kimonos and suits when they mess around the pond and push the other in. Jesse knows when the guards change shift and which of the personnel to make puppy dog eyes at. Jesse once fooled his tutor with the blurry eyes and spent an entire period pretending to be Hanzo without being caught.

 

He can do what he wanted, and has free time, he could walk around the castle looking fresh out of bed even in the late afternoon. The servants go easy on him. When he smiles he has a big gap, but his teeth still look good, and Jesse is the smartest person he knew, and Hanzo thinks he could figure anything out and succeed at whatever he wants. He just needs people who could give him a shot.

 

“What do you want to be when you’re older?” Hanzo glances not toward Jesse, but the window behind him. He could sense the dinnertime bell ringing at any moment.

 

“I don’t know… it’d be cool to be a guard. Like Ma.” Jesse shrugs and picks a gooey snack out of his pocket, one that’s clearly been through some wear and tear after a horseback ride. Hanzo recoils a hint at the sight, face scrunched as he continues. “Are you sure? After uh-”

 

“-I don’t know, Hmm I might just stay at the stables forever.” Jesse takes a big bite and continues to chew, “I’m good with them. I’m not good at cleaning, so I don’t wanna do housework. But I just feel like… everyone thinks I’ll be like Ma?”

 

“Do you want to be like her?” Hanzo looks more serious. Jesse slows his chewing.

 

“A little. Momoka-san says great things about her.”

 

“All the servants say she was cool.” Hanzo smiles.

 

“And I want to be cool!”

 

“You already are.” Hanzo snorts, “And you’ll get to go to America someday.”

 

“I just need to fix my plan-” Jesse stands up and leans over to take the diagram he scrawled earlier. “I need to make it perfect. And a two-person mission.”

 

“What? Two?” Hanzo leans closer with a smirk, catching his drift.

 

“No way I’m leaving you back here-” Just as he’s about to strike a pose, Jesse jolts up to the sound of chiming. He chews and gulps down his snack faster, and jams the paper into his pockets. “ _-Except now!_ ” He snickers, though while keeping his voice low as much as he could, and Hanzo laughs at the awkward timing, heading towards the door. No footsteps yet, at least, usually the servants check in on him at this time.

 

“Thank you for the help,” Hanzo says, in that royal cadence like his mother would make but with mischief in his eyes. Jesse raspberries at his royal highness, and salutes before going for the door.

 

Naturally, that’s when the faintest of footsteps come, and they stare at each other wide-eyed. Jesse stops for a moment before quickly taking his serape off and rushing for the window, grabbing Hanzo as well.

 

“Jesse, no, don’t jump down-”  
“I’m not, wait-” He rolls the heavy serape up and hands Hanzo one end. He understands immediately and takes hold of it, letting Jesse rappel down to a safer ledge. Jesse takes off before Hanzo could throw it down. Hanzo at least stashes it in a corner before the servants could check in on him, suspicious but unable to prove anything.

 

He isn’t able to seek Jesse out after dinner and before the evening rituals. The servants have access to extra blankets, at least, so he knew Jesse shouldn’t be cold out.

 

\-------

 

Hanzo takes the serape out of hiding as it’s time for him to rest, examining the cloth- woven in thicker threads, rougher on the skin.

 

However, as he learns quickly, they’re a lot warmer and he feels safer to be under them. And though it’s a hint selfish, he’s glad Jesse left this part of him in his room.

  
In Hanamura.


	4. Hair Shining Like Silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Two young teenagers, still with a childish streak]  
> Jesse finds the gun, and Hanzo finds hesitation.
> 
> He knows he can't do it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, I used the Gambler Skin as reference for Peacekeeper's appearance.
> 
> I had wanted to finish this two weeks ago, but welp, life! A very tricky chapter, but again I appreciate all the feedback~ Enjoy!

Light streams in through the windows as Jesse takes his serape off the frame, warm and freshly dried by the high noon sun. The thirteen year old sneezes as the dust motes reveal themselves in the light.

 

Across the room and behind him is the kindly maid, Momoka-san, folding up some bedsheets. The room’s been recently scrubbed of any extra dirt and grime, even in the dips between floorboards and wooden panels, the furniture moved around to make more room. Jesse has had the place to himself, with Momoka-san moving out some time ago, though she still pops in here and there, if only to get the boy on his feet to actually clean the room. She helps out in the end.

 

Jesse enjoys the new privacy, space to be himself, but it was lonelier. He had grown fond and thankful for her having looked after him where his mother couldn’t. He still enjoys the conversations between them whenever she checks in, at the very least. Among the servants, she’s also the one who hides the least about his mother; she doesn’t dance around the topic and indulges Jesse.

 

Though she also masks his mother in ways, talks about her in flowers and songs when Jesse knows there is a hint of iron in his mouth and a callous to her hands, even back when she gently held him so young. There were the scraped knees like the sort Jesse now finds personally familiar in his many runs and scuffles and tumbles from the staff.

 

A deathly nickname, something dark and unsaid.

 

\-------

 

It was during the first clean up when he found it, the day Momoka-san moved out.

 

The single large black cabinet in his room was opened and they had to do something about the clutter. Momoka-san moved almost all of her things out, and Jesse put out some of the things he used more on the tiny table and scarce shelves he had about. He was delighted to find a small sketch of what seemed to be the pair of them, him and his mother, and got it framed and set on the center of a shelf, next to a potted plant he was made to take care of, and a wolf figurine of which he had no idea where it came from. Hanzo particularly thought it was cool all those years ago and he kept it there.

 

But then there was what looked to be a wallet, a simple leather case, that was more personal notes than banknotes, but what felt heaviest both physically and mentally was the key he found in it and Jesse knew, immediately, what it was for.

 

The moment the maid was out of the room, Jesse immediately stepped barefoot onto his bed and reached for the metal box above the cabinet, set it down on his lap as he sat down. He knew what was in it, just that he hadn’t seen it in years

 

He turned the key and felt it click. Jesse took a deep breath, shut the lid tight again, and clicked it back the other way before hiding the box, this time inside the cabinet.

 

He didn’t feel ready to see it yet, but kept the key ready beside the box.

 

\-------

 

And it was now a few weeks after that first day. He flaps the serape out the window, turns around to see the maid smiling at him and mouthing a farewell as she picked up the folded sheets and headed out.

 

Alone again, and there’s the thought of opportunity, of looking at the gun again. He couldn’t bear to share the sight with anyone, but he didn’t want to be alone.

 

Except, perhaps, alone with Hanzo. Just as he turns to see one friend leave, he looks back out the window, serape in his hands, and he catches sight of the prince.

 

\-------

 

(Hanzo’s at that awkward age of fourteen and Jesse’s still getting used to seeing the new fit of robes on him, and maybe mildly threatened that his earlier growth spurt would finally have Jesse be the shorter one of the pair of them. Hanzo’s hair is longer than ever, enough that whenever he has a ponytail keep his fringe off his face, it no longer poofs out at the back.

 

His face is also longer, with faint dips in his cheeks where acne has marked them, and he looks a lot like the queen, Jesse realizes. He doesn’t smile as much, because when his teeth grew back in some came out a little more crooked, that and Hanzo is more ‘serious’ now and that serious people, like the prince he is, have to look stern.

 

Jesse knows it’s a big damn lie, and that Hanzo laughs at his own jokes still, and when no one’s listening they both mock the servants tones and obnoxious swears and cup their hands over their mouths to quiet their giggling fits.

 

But there are changes even in the comfortable friendship they have.

 

They still sneak into each other’s rooms to help each other with what their tutors has tasked for them, but Jesse can no longer mimic Hanzo’s excessively neat penmanship, nor the same tone of English Hanzo’s learned from the dignitaries that have visited over the years. More often, Hanzo has to turn him down; Hanzo gets exasperated when they schedule new things he doesn’t expect.

 

But at the end of the day, Hanzo sighs, walks over to Jesse, and food [not stolen] in hand they can lay on the bed and look to the ceiling and leave crumbs while they pour their hearts and worries out, and they know the other will never judge them for it.)

 

\-----

 

Hanzo looks his way with a smirk, and Jesse feels his grasp on his serape tighten. He manages a small wave before Hanzo continues down the garden path.

 

Unable to sate his curiosity, Jesse grapples the window frame and cranes his head out. Genji’s beside Hanzo, fidgety as a servant tries to pat down his unruly hair, and past the princes and the whole entourage he can see the queen. Her voice rises above the others, and she’s telling them to prepare themselves, switching to English once they approach another building in the compound.

 

Jesse reaches at his mental copy of Hanzo’s rough schedule, and he remembers. A big international discussion, something of that sort, either way it’s an audience with somebody important.

 

_Well, he doesn’t have anything better to do._

 

Jesse looks through his clothes for a suit matching that of the servants’ formal wear. He washes his face, and once he’s dressed he heads toward the congregation with the hope that nobody will be able to pick him out of the crowd.

 

\-------

 

There are many unfamiliar faces, assistants not just of the Hanamura court but also from different countries. Jesse realizes he isn’t the most odd person out once he enters.

 

In the time it took him to get cleaned up and prepared, he misses all but the tail end of an introductory speech. Tying together context clues, he can surmise that the tall man at the center of it all, beside the king, is one Mr. Reyes from a Swiss peacekeeping organization.

 

 _Two kings,_ Jesse thinks to himself and chuckles when he remembers what the name means.

 

It doesn’t take long to find Hanzo, who is sitting alert and, in the most graceful way possible, occasionally whapping Genji’s back to make him sit upright. After the initial words there is an applause, and the gathering quickly turns more lax than Jesse first expects it to be. He gets bumped here and there as the servants he’s hiding with rush to bring some drinks, and to prepare a table across the room and guide the dignitaries to their seats.

 

Jesse guesses that the delicious smells from the kitchen backdoors are for _after_ this next discussion is done, he did contemplate on grabbing some. But for now, they’re easing the tension with small snacks before getting to the real deal, not quite as typical in the gatherings he’s used to.

 

Before he can stick around longer, however, he feels a tap on his shoulder and in an instant _ah shit,_ he’s been caught before he could further investigate. He _knew_ he was too short for this. When he turns around, however he’s eye-to-eye with a familiar face and his heart swells.

 

“Jesse, what are you doing here-” Hanzo say. Jesse is relieved and his shoulders slack with his sigh, and then he grins. “Wanted to see what all this is about.”

 

“Do I have to keep an eye on you, too?” Hanzo takes his wrist, rolls his eyes and makes an overdramatic sigh, a sign to Jesse that he’s actually in fair spirits. Hanzo keeps looking between him and then some corner of the room, and Jesse follows his gaze to see Genji hovering in and out of the royal parents immediate vicinity.

 

“You know I won’t make a mess ‘round here~” Jesse is still beaming as he lets Hanzo tug him along, towards the exit. Hanzo shakes his head, “I noticed you immediately, you’re too obvious, better I take you out before the guards do.”

 

“Come on, this is the most interesting thing that’s going on right now-” Jesse whines.

“A diplomacy meeting? Pfff.” Hanzo starts headbutting Jesse when he digs his heels in and refuses to budge. He _does_ move when Hanzo nearly tips them over, and they chuckle, quickly making the last few inches out the door.  
  
“Come on, I’ve never seen a, uh…  Swiss national before?”

 

“Most of them are just more Americans, actually. I’ll just tell you about it when it’s done, okay?”

 

“I’ll crash the dinner.” Jesse looks on smugly while Hanzo quickly fixes up his own hair and steps back inside.

 

“Alright, Jesse-” Hanzo’s eyes then snap wide open, and he frantically dashes back in to rejoin his family. Jesse watches on from the entrance, seeing the rather perplexed foreigners watch Hanzo enter while Genji’s at the right hand of the king, looking victorious.

 

Hanzo makes a face back at Jesse once everyone’s back to their conversation. Jesse copies it back, and then notices that Mr. Reyes guy look dumbfoundedly at him. He yelps and slicks away for real, back towards his quarters.

 

\-------

 

Jesse does his share of errands around the palace, a bit of schoolwork, a bit of mulling around the bed and thinking about the locked box. He’d almost forgotten that that was why he looked for Hanzo to begin with, because while he liked to think of himself as quite grown up, he still couldn’t face everything on his own.

 

He’s _partially_ thankful that he didn’t stick around for the long, long meeting, though. It’s long past sunset when he hears the shuffle of servants back across the garden to the other building, he picks himself up and goes along with them.

 

The crowd’s easier to blend into this time, with more activity overall. The royal family doesn’t stray far from the center, so he finds the brothers soon enough.

 

Even Hanzo’s just slumped in the sofa chair after several hours of having to act serious, and Genji’s flopped next to him, looking like he had just been rudely awakened from a nice nap through a long meeting. He’s first to wave, and the brothers then sit up in unison.

 

“Jesse. “ Hanzo yawns and vaguely wiggles his fingers in greeting.

 

“Was the meeting fun? “ Jesse grins

“Shut the hell up. ” Hanzo groans with all the intensity of a young teenager who did not remotely enjoy the meeting. Jesse laughs, and Genji looks incredulous at the language,

“You can't say that, brother. “

 

“Shit, fuck, hell. “ Hanzo cracks a smirk whilst his brother gasps louder.

 

“Don't forget asshole, and piss. But don't tell anyone you learned it from us.” Jesse says.

 

“It'll drive the others crazy.” Hanzo pats Genji on the back. The latter’s eyes light up and he mouths the words. Then he repeats them, more audibly

“Shit, fuck, asshole. “

 

Genji then bolts off the cushions with renewed vigor, running straight towards one Mr. Reyes. Hanzo’s eyes then widen in horror as he realizes his mistake, and he tugs Jesse's hand.

 

“We should run, yeah Hanzo?“

“Yeah. Let's.”

 

\-------

 

The servants’ quarters are quiet and Hanzo feels at peace, staring at the ceiling and splayed out on the fresh white sheets, his long black hair in waves behind him, his shoes kicked off and the thought of the long meeting behind him.

 

“Hey, get off my bed-” _That’s when Jesse interrupts, of course_ , cutting into his line of sight and pouting down at him. Hanzo knows he actually doesn’t mind, but he then stretches his limbs further to take up more space.

 

“I’m tired-” Hanzo groans, “It’s less stuffy here- yoww-!” He rolls sideways when Jesse presses a foot to his shoulder, eventually getting on his belly and watching Jesse step unto the bed and opening the black cabinet beside it.

 

 _What was he in such a rush about?_ There he pulls out the metal box and key from the top shelf, and in a smooth motion he sits down cross-legged on the sheets and bounces the box on his lap. Hanzo pushes himself up, sits, and blinks at it, curious. “What’s that?”

 

Jesse bites his lip in anticipation, and then clicks the key, “ _Peacekeeper_.”

 

He feels his breath hitch as he unveils it. He knows little about guns in general, but he can remember the words used to describe it: _Advanced, ahead of its time by decades,_ made by a legendary gunsmith, steeped in legend. The barrel and frame is mostly black, engraved with swirls and card suits, wherein they give away to ochres and bronze and luxurious gold. In stark contrast is the white on the handle and the accents on the cylinder.

 

Jesse turns it about, looks it over, while Hanzo just watches wide-eyed and stunned to silence.

 

Jesse feels over the handiwork, remembering the motions his mother made whenever she’d clean it. His fingertip dips into the patterns, where the dusted gold recedes to shadow, over the delicate clovers.

 

The moment his hand even ghosts over the trigger, though, and Hanzo’s grabbing his wrist like a vice. Jesse lets out a choked gasp and just his eyes move to see the prince, who’s paler than ever, breathing hard, in a trance.

 

There’s a beat before Hanzo’s gaze shifts up from the gun to meet Jesse’s eyes, and he immediately lets go and looks away, hands jolting back. Hanzo holds them forced unnaturally close to his body- “S-sorry.”

 

Jesse looks on in confusion for a while, until Hanzo reaches to pull the gun out of his hands, guiding it towards the box. He shakes his head,

“Why… Why did you show this to me?”

 

Hanzo’s hands tremble until Jesse’s sweep over them, curl and massage the backs of those knuckles, and Jesse whispers a sorry, but also, “W-what’s wrong…”

 

“Jesse, that’s a _gun_ , you don’t know how to use one, you…” Hanzo grumbles, “You can’t just bring me here and show me _that_ out of nowhere.”

 

“I… yeah.” Jesse nods, bows his head like a chided pup, “I didn’t think about it. I just wanted to see it.”

 

“See it, and show it to me? Were you going to try it out, to show off-” Hanzo knits his brow, angry and focused still on their hands.

“No, no, it was like I _couldn’t_ see it without you for, you know, emotional backup.”

 

“Then _why_ did you need to see it?”

 

“Hanzo, you don’t understand, this… this-” He gestures down at the box, “It’s all I have for my history, all I have left, it wasn’t as if I was going to _use_ it.”

 

“I know, I know, just-” Hanzo droops and then sets the box cover down, “-it’s too early for you, I don’t… want you to be a gunslinger.” He takes a deep huff, dark eyes looking right at Jesse.

 

 _Maybe not now, but you’ll pull the trigger someday, and I’m scared_. Jesse pats down his friend’s shoulders, shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do something dumb. Sorry.”

 

\-------

 

Hanzo’s the one who locks it up again and places it back at top of the cabinet. No more words between them on that topic, though when they look at each other they can tell there are a million that they simply can’t sort out into logical sentences, words they can’t say like “ _I don’t want you to be in danger_ ,” or like “ _Please, I need answers.”_

 

They’ll sort it out sometime.

 

But then Hanzo lays back down on the bed, takes a deep breath, and sees Jesse sitting up beside him. He sees the room, cool and quiet and familiar despite the changes. He sees the little wolf on the shelf, he sees Jesse’s serape draped by the bed.

 

It’s comfort to him, an escape from his own wild future, and he doesn’t want it interspersed with memories of the assassination attempts, of the thought of lanky-but-still-too-small Jesse growing up. Firing guns, rolling off roofs, having his eye swell red.

 

“Hanzo, what are you thinking about?”

 

The prince shrugs, “Probably how pissed the elders would look like when I get back.” He smirks.

 

“Hey, it’s Genji that’s getting in trouble for swearing.” Jesse pouts down at him, laying back slightly on the bed as well and staring up at the familiar, plain ceiling.  
  
“I still ran off to be with you.” Hanzo turns to him and raises a brow.

 

“Oh. True.” And yet they do it so often Jesse doesn’t think much of it anymore, even with the constant reminders. “ _The one rule you keep on breaking._ ”

 

Did the elders even care? They knew the two always stole time for themselves. At the very least, the king and queen didn’t mind. It being done in secret was always part of the fun, even if at the end of the day, nobody panicked whenever Hanzo disappeared, because it would always be with Jesse.

 

Are they going to start caring _now?_

 

Jesse lays his head fully on the sheets and sighs. When he shifts himself he can easily feel Hanzo’s hair tickling his neck, a black cascade shining blue in the light, and he’s all too aware.

  
Of how much he loved moments like this with him, and how they’re more fleeting each day.


End file.
